A Swimmer's Nightmare
by Page Library Page
Summary: A oneshot drabble based on Sean Michael's "Personal Best" series. Inspired by a TRULY strange dream I had.


A drabble based on Sean Michael's "Personal Best" series.  
Un'betaed.

* * *

"Oh, god!" Mike cursed as he woke up. His head throbbed and his eyes hurt, but if he didn't get back to the motel soon, his teammates would tell his coach where he'd gone.

Mike stumbled out of the unfamiliar bed in search of his clothes. He found his jeans and one shoe, pulling both on before heading down the stairs.

'I don't rememeber there being so many stairs last night.' Mike thought to himself. This place was like a tower or something with a prison cell disguised as a bedrooom at the top.

As he reached the third landing, a voice called down to him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

Mike's head shot up and he stumbled momentarily. "I really have to get out of here." he said, backing down the stairs.

"My coach is going to start looking for me and if he finds out what I've been doing, he'll kill me."

The man behind the voice laughed a little, sounding crazed. "Oh, you can't leave, my little merman."

"No, see I really, really have to go. I have one more swim tomorrow and then we're going home." Mike replied, he was starting to get worried. The use of the nickname his coach had given to him when they met scared him a little.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs until the speker came into view. A man, not much older than Mike himself, with long, dark hair and angry brown eyes.

"Well, if you really, really have to go, I can't stop you." he said, mockingly, as Mike backed away from the staircase into the living area.

"However, my pets will stop you. They'll probably eat you, but you won't have gotten away." he said, waving his hands to the couches on either side of Mike.

"Holy shit!!!" Mike screamed. Staring at him, like he was a banquet before a starving man, were two huge snakes. 'Constrictors.' his brain supplied unhelpfully, as he backed into the kitchenette and pulled himself onto a countertop.

His captor snickered as he walked towards him, ignoring the snakes and snuffing the contetns of a plastic bag off of his fingers. He was high as a kite.

He stepped up to Mike, holding his white-tipped fingers out.

"No! Please, I'll do whatever else you want me too, but please don't drug me!" Mike begged. If he was caught with drugs in his system, he's be banned from swimming proffessionally and his coach would leave him. Alone.

"Anything..." his captor hummed thougtfully. "Well, you can start with Master. Yes, I like that. Call me Master." he ordered.

Mike cringed as the drugged man pinned him against the cupboards with his body. He was taller, and more muscular than Mike's own lean frame and easily held Mike still.

He leaned forward, taking Mike's mouth in a brutal kiss, drawing blood as he repeatedly bit at the swimmer's lips.

Mike was crying from pain and fear, when the kiss ended.

"You need to thank me, when I give you a present like that."

"Thank you." Mike managed to force out. His head was slammed into a cabinet and he saw stars for a moment.

"Thank you, what?" his captor snarled, tightening his hand around Mike's throat.

"Master! Thank you, Master." Mike gasped.

"Much better, pet."

The hand came away from his throat and Mike was pulled out of the kitchenette and shoved into a tiny elevator.

'Well, that explains why I don't remember the stairs.' he thought, before his brain shut down, leaving only the empty shell of his body to deal with the abuse heaped upon it.

Weeks later, Mike was allowed outside. A reward for good behaviour. He was unsupervised, but that did him no good. They were on an island and even though Mike could have made the swim to the mainland in his sleep, there was the threat of the two snakes.

Master had shown him just how well-trained his reptilian pets were. He'd released a deer and frightened it into swimming out into the water before releasing his snakes. The two snaked had quickly overtaken the small doe, wrapping themselves around her terrified body and drowning her before dragging the carcass to land to devour.

Mike had been sick.

So, he stood on the dock, staring at the mainland, crying. He wanted to go home, to see his coach again, to swim without fear. "Fuck! I just want Jessy." he whimpered.


End file.
